Can you not kill your enemy without drinking his blood ?" "And where then would be the pleasure of revenge ?"--he muttered, between his closed teeth.

"The soldier who in battle slays his opponent, hates him not--he has no personal animosity to indulge.

The man has never crossed his path in love or in ambition--yet he shoots him down, ruthlessly and relentlessly.

Shall _he_ do no more who hates, who fears, who sickens at the sight of the man who has crossed his path in love and in ambition?
I tell you, Munro, I hate this boy--this beardless, this overweening and insolent boy.

He has overthrown, he has mortified me, where I alone should have stood supreme and supereminent.